


Stark Holiday

by Naferty



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Santa Claus, But really it's letters to Tony, Family Fluff, Fluff, Holidays, Kind of Childhoold Sweethearts, Letters to Santa, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naferty/pseuds/Naferty
Summary: It starts with a letter.Particularly, it starts with Tony's letter to have a friend as his gift.It changes his entire life.
Relationships: Loki & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Thor
Comments: 15
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Made some changes and added more!

Tiny seven-year-old Tony wrote a letter to have a friend for Yule. It was all he wanted. A true friend. One his father just couldn’t buy for him. A friend that wanted to play just to play and not for money.

His father thought it stupid to write a letter for someone who he claimed didn’t exist. Tony did it anyway. He wasn’t writing to Santa. Not this year. He was writing to Odin, who Tony had learned about months prior.

While all the other kids wrote to Santa, Tony wrote to Odin and only Odin. He wrote it properly, signed his name, even stamped it and sent it off with Mister Jarvis. Where it would go, Tony didn’t know, but he trusted Odin would receive it.

Thor received the letter days later, surprised and delighted to see it addressed to his father and not the fictional jolly man Midgardians had created and catered to during the winter festival. Even Loki had been shocked and later impressed by the Midgardian child. 

As a reward, Thor took it upon himself to grant Tony’s little wish personally and went to him upon the first day of Yule to be his friend for the whole day. While at first apprehensive at Thor’s presence, Tony soon warmed up when Thor revealed he received his letter and came to grant him his wish. 

Thor soon learned that Tony wasn’t an ordinary child. He had planned to gift Tony toys and spend hours playing with them, but Tony had a brilliant mind and an eye of curiosity. He was not satisfied with the meager things Thor had brought, and after seeing the fantastical creations Tony himself was capable of, Thor knew what to do.

He gifted Tony a tour of his father’s Midgardian workshop. The very place where Odin created the gifts to have delivered every year. 

The workshop was incredible to look at and Tony couldn’t get enough. He ran, he prodded, he asked all the questions. He smiled and he laughed. As bright as a child could. He loved it so much he practically ran circles around Thor and Loki all day, wanting to know everything, wanting to create. 

He asked if he could stay. Promised to be of help and never be a burden. Promised them everything, just please allow him to stay.

Thor was at a loss. He brought little Tony to make him happy, yes, but it meant to be temporary. A small light to brighten his day before he’s taken back to his unhappy life as the child of an uncaring man, broken and ruined by the loss of his wife. Odin was no longer in charge of the workshop. That leadership had gone to Thor many years ago, so ultimately it was his decision. 

He had to take Tony back home. Back to his Midgardian life and back to his father, but much to his shock Loki stepped in. His little brother fought him tooth and nail to allow Tony to stay. 

As someone who grew up without his father’s love, Loki knew more than most of what Tony felt. If he could do something about it, he was going to. Regardless of what Thor said. 

Seeing as his word was going to be overruled, no matter what Thor said, Thor surrendered and announced Tony’s permanent residence. 

Thus, Tony left his old life and earned a new one. The old workshop became his home and Thor and Loki became his uncles by proxy. Though it was Loki that argued he was the one who stopped Tony from losing fingers while working in the shop. 

Deeming Midgardian education subpar, Tony was homeschooled. The technology of Asgard was his new toy and every day he would play, learning the workings and the magic. Impressing his uncles. Impressing even Odin after the man came to visit once upon hearing the word of a Midgardian residing in his old workshop. 

The man had been furious, ready to scold his children for allowing such a thing, but Loki stood firm and refused to budge in Tony’s defense. If Odin attempted to remove the child Loki promised never to utter a single word to either him or Thor ever again. 

Upon hearing the ultimatum, Thor argued on Tony’s behalf as well, not wanting to be ignored by his brother forevermore. Loki would keep his promise. He knew it. His father knew it. All knew it. 

Odin conceded defeat and pushed the matter no more, but he left his sons with a warning. Should the workshop fail because of the Midgardian child, Anthony was to be removed and forgotten. No exceptions. 

Tony swore to never allow that to happen. He was going to show Odin, show everyone, that he was no burden and nothing would fail because of him. 

When the workshop lit up with life following the first snowfall, he got to work helping read the first batch of letters and wrap the toys. They were small tasks, but tasks he took seriously. Menial work compared to what Loki and Thor did, but it was work nonetheless and he was damn proud of it. 

On the third day of reading, one particular letter got his attention out of the giant pile. He read it over and over, wondering if it was the old letter he had written himself just last year and it was mistakenly placed in the pile, or if this was another child who was just as lonely as Tony had been. 

_Steve G. Rogers_ was scrawled on the bottom. Messy and in red. He wants an item for his mother and a friend for himself. He’d been good all year. Had helped with chores and had gotten good grades. All he wanted was a friend to have fun with. 

Tony stared at the letter for the longest time. So much so he ends up late for dinner and Loki had to come up to his little office to check on him. Loki found him still fixated on the letter. Hadn’t budged an inch. 

“Little Star?” Loki called to him. 

Tony hummed in acknowledgment but otherwise continued re-reading the letter. 

“What does the letter say?” Loki came in and sat next to the small genius. 

“Steve wants a friend.” 

Loki read over the letter, no doubt thinking of the similarities between this one and Tony’s previous. “What are you thinking?” 

Tony frowned. A sight to see on an eight-year-old. “I want to be his friend.” 

“What do you plan to do?” 

Tony looked up to him. Giant eyes glistening with purpose, but also with worry. Something no youngster should be feeling. “Can I go to him? Be his friend like Thor did?” 

Loki smiled at him. “You can.” 

“I’ll play with him. We’ll play tag. Hide and seek.” 

“Sounds acceptable.” 

“I’ll be his best friend.” 

“He will be lucky to have you as a friend, but Little Star, how long will you be his friend?“ 

“What do you mean?" 

"You won’t stay there forever. Your home is here in the north. A long ways away from him." 

Tony’s lower lip poked out slightly. "I can’t bring him back with me?" 

"No. Read his letter, Darling. He wishes to help his mom. He clearly loves her and she him. He won’t leave her." 

Tony looked at the letter again. Thinking long on what to do. "I’ll be his best friend for all of Yule. The best he’s ever had." 

Loki held him close with one arm. "All of Yule? Every single day?”

“Yes! Every day." 

"Sounds like the perfect gift for him.” It was funny, Loki thought. The child in the letter wrote to Santa, but it was Anthony that would give him the very gift he wanted. 

* * *

On the first morning of Yule, tiny little Steve Rogers woke up to gifts under his tiny tree. A little odd since they were not supposed to be there until the twenty-fifth, but they were there nonetheless. All of them for his mom. None for him. He was not disappointed. This was what he asked for after all. 

It was not until he walked out of his home and saw a lone kid playing with the snow surrounding their neighborhood that Steve found his gift. Steve had never seen this kid before. He was a complete stranger, and yet the kid walked up to him like a friend. 

“Hi, I’m Tony.” The kid smiled. 

Steve smiled back. His ma always told him to be polite. She also said not to talk to strangers, but this boy didn’t seem dangerous. “I’m Steve.” 

“Would you like to play with me?” 

How could Steve say no? 

They played together for the longest time that day. They played tag with Steve waddling around determinedly with his layers of clothing while Tony dashed through with worryingly less. They threw snowballs at each other. They built a snowman and created snow angels. Steve’s cheeks were flushed from the cold and from the joy of having so much fun with a friend. 

When his ma called him back hours later, Steve was understandably heartbroken. He had to say goodbye to his new friend, but Tony promised to see him again the next day. Steve was uncertain, believing his wish was coming to an end, but he still held to that promise, hoping with all his little heart for his friend to come back. 

The next day, Steve woke up bright and early. He powered through breakfast, reassured his mom he didn’t catch a cold from staying out so long yesterday and rushed through the door. He scanned the area rapidly for his friend, crestfallen when he saw no sign of him anywhere. 

He immediately brightened when he heard, “Steve, over here!” 

Then brightened again the next day when he heard it again. 

Then the next day. 

Then on Eve and Christmas day. 

Then on New Year’s Eve.

On the first of the next year, however, Tony didn’t come back. He didn’t return on the second, nor the third. For the first month, Steve didn’t see his friend again. Not on the second or third month either. By the six Steve had given up. On the twelfth month, he wrote a letter again. He wrote to Santa to please bring him back his friend Tony. 

On the twenty-first of December, he saw Tony again and Steve had never been so happy. 

On the first of the next year, Tony was gone again but Steve wasn’t sad. He would just have to ask Santa to bring him back again. 

Tony did return. Every year when the workshop received Steve’s letter, Tony was there in a heartbeat. Every single year without question and hesitation. He made sure to give Steve the best friend he could ask for. Every year without fail, he waited excitedly for the letter, wanting to see his friend Steve. 

Then one year… no letter came. Tony dug through and scoured the thousands of letters, but not a single one was from Steve. 

Undeterred, Tony went anyway. What he finds was Steve hanging out with another teen. Friendly and very close, like peas from the same pod and glued to the hip. The best of friends. 

Just like that, Steve didn’t need a friend brought by the holidays. He’d gone and finally made his own. Thus, he no longer needed to write a letter. He didn’t seem to believe in Santa anymore, either. 

Tony smiled at the sight. Both happy for Steve and very much sad. Steve had grown to be just as important to Tony as Tony had grown to be for Steve. Unlike Steve, though, Tony was and had always meant to be temporary. He was, after all, only a gift from some mystical being of the north. 

* * *

Tony returned back to the workshop and continued to grow. Being raised by Asgardians meant being the best Midgardian he could be. Loki pushed his studies. Thor pushed his skills. Jarvis, the android built and modeled after his old butler to be his caretaker when Loki and Thor were requested back home and Tony was not to be left alone in the workshop, pushed his mannerisms. 

“You can be the greatest genius and the most skilled, but you’re nothing if you’re not respectful, Sir.” 

“Yes, Jarvis.” 

Tony grew and took over the workshop. He improved upon it. Created what not even Thor nor Loki would have thought. Tony created the Iron Legion in order to keep the workshop operating and running with phenomenal numbers. Not even Odin could deny the improvements to the old shop. He patted Tony on the shoulder and offered a “Well done, Child,” upon first seeing the renovations. 

All the approval and respect Tony could’ve asked for. 

Odin and old St. Nick might have been the faces, but Tony was the operator and he had grown to handle it all on his own with little help. 

Thor patted him proudly when he declared the Northern Midgardian workshop Tony’s upon his twenty-first birthday. With Odin’s blessing, of course. “Midgard is well handled with you, and there are plenty of other locations I must attend to. She is all yours, Tony. I know you will treat her well.” 

Loki gifted him with a ceremonial knife when he heard the news. “There is little danger this far north, but you never know who could come knocking behind this door. Use this well.” 

Tony kept the place running with little issue. For years it moved like clockwork. With no distractions and no obligations outside of the workshop, memories of Steve easily faded away. They were good memories when feeling nostalgic, but unnecessary on the grand scheme of things. 

That was until the workshop received a letter. A particular letter that Jarvis himself handed over to Tony personally.

“I believe you might want to read this, Sir,” Jarvis said with a twinkle in his mechanical eyes. 

Tony did. It was a familiar letter talking about a topic that sparked a recollection of a time when he had only been, what he considered now, a baby. At thirty-two-years-old, that time felt forever ago but the memories came back easily enough. As if it had only been yesterday. 

At the end of the letter was the familiar signature. Mature now and very much professional. 

_Steve G. Rogers_

Tony smiled down at the letter. “Hi to you, too, Steve.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww yeah, Steve's side.

Steve once wrote a letter to get a best friend for Christmas. He had been eight-years-old, back when his health was bad and his scrawny child body had been scrawnier than most. Finding someone to be his friend proved to be a real puzzle. 

He didn’t know why he chose that particular year to ask for a friend from the jolly man advertised every winter holiday. Maybe the bullying had been particularly bad that year, or maybe he was finally old enough to understand the feeling of loneliness, either way, he wrote the letter and only asked for a friend while requesting other important things for his ma. 

Steve didn’t remember much of that year, but he did remember it was the year when he finally made a friend. 

The boy had been similar in age as him, with the darkest eyes and darkest hair Steve had ever seen. Steve remembered how the boy practically wore nothing against the cold. Only the thinnest little festive sweater and boots, while Steve had been wrapped in every jacket they had owned. As if the cold never affected the kid. 

Steve also remembered how the boy smiled at him. Wide and open. No sneer. No malice. Just a child wanting to have fun. That year, Steve played in the snow for hours and never wanted to stop. He never wanted to say goodbye to the boy, to Tony. 

The next day, Tony was still there and still wanted to be his friend. Steve had been overjoyed. 

Then the next day and the next and then the next. Until the strangest thing. Come the first day of the next year and Tony never returned. He had vanished with no trail left behind. Little eight-year-old Steve had been heartbroken for a time but then he brilliantly concluded; he’ll just ask the jolly man up north for his friend to return. 

Come the following Christmas and… it worked. Tony came back and Steve had another wonderful holiday with his friend. 

Then Tony disappeared on the first day of the following next year again, so Steve wrote another letter and come Christmas week, Tony was back. 

This pattern repeated for years until Steve finally met Bucky one sunny day in February. A jerk who became his best friend. Thick as thieves and glued to the hip. They’d later join the military together and share an apartment after.

Steve didn’t write a letter for this year, nor any of the following years, and didn’t recall ever seeing Tony again. Steve hated to admit it, was a little ashamed of it, to be honest, but he had  _ forgotten  _ all about Tony. About the letters. About his dear friend from childhood. Until now. 

His date with Sharon, his apartment neighbor from a floor below, had gone well and, seeing as Christmas was right around the corner, one of the topics they had gone over had been their childhood holiday memories. What their families had done before. Any embarrassing stories for a particular year. Traditions, if they celebrated any.

There weren’t many holiday traditions for him, just a shared meal and spending time with his mother, and now the letters and Tony. It was no family tradition, but it was something tiny baby Steve had found important. 

He told Sharon as much. A cute story of his childhood that he now chucked it up as pure coincidence. Tony had probably just been in the area visiting family and celebrating the holidays. Once Christmas was over Tony’d return back to wherever he lived and then return again to Steve’s neck of the woods to visit and celebrate the following Christmas.

Sharon agreed and they smiled and laughed. Their date continued until they had to go, but they left agreeing to try again. Steve liked Sharon. He could see himself dating her if it worked out, putting in the effort, but not anything further than that. He needed a bit more time to even think about it. 

He returned to his apartment with the discussions of the date in mind. Specifically, the letters and Tony. To many, including himself, it really could have just been a coincidence. A little boy visiting distant family that happened to live in Brooklyn and looking for a friend to play with for the week, but what had happened on the year Tony never returned? A falling out with his family? Rebellious teenage faze where family reunions were too boring for him so he whined and whined until he was allowed to stay home? 

Steve couldn’t say, but it did catch his curiosity. What were the odds the letters and Tony were connected? Low, but who would it hurt if Steve wrote one more? For old time’s sake, and as an apology for having forgotten his old friend. 

So, he wrote. 

A simple letter consisting of questioning his sanity for writing to jolly ol’ Saint Nick as a full-grown adult and mentioning his old friend who Steve was curious to see now. See how Tony had grown, how he looked, how he was as a person and what became of his life after. 

How Steve had come to miss him now that he remembered him. 

He signed it and sent it on its way. Never to be seen again for Steve had no idea where letters addressed to a fictional character would go to. Probably thrown away by a carrier or the unlucky fellow who was selected to receive these ridiculous letters. 

Sadly, just as years before, Steve had quickly forgotten about it shortly after. Not out of malicious intent. He just had so much to do. Work, check on Bucky, share a coffee with Sam, meet with Sharon for another date and a promised third, drop off lunch for Natasha, make sure Clint hadn’t been thrown overnight in jail, figure out his budget for presents, the list went on and on. 

The 21st came upon him pretty quickly. Steve thought nothing of it. Just a regular, rare day-off. Get up for the day, stop by his favorite coffee place for a little treat and enjoy his free time before meeting up with Natasha and Bucky for some dinner. 

He had just gotten in line for his drink and slice of cake and was looking around the establishment when something caught his eye. A sweater. A thin and outrageously colorful little thing, worn by a man sitting at a table. There was no sign of a coat or jacket or anything else to keep warm. Just a sweater, pants and boots. 

There were inches of snow outside and the wind was unforgiving. Only someone insane would wear a simple sweater. 

The questionable sanity of the man caught Steve’s attention. Then Steve noticed the man looking at him. Embarrassed at being caught, Steve turned away and stubbornly pretended he saw no one. 

His face heated up when at the corner of his eye sweater-man stood and made his way towards him. His stomach dropped. Sweater-man was going to demand to know why he had been staring and Steve would have to somehow explain why he had been fixated by the sweater-man’s choice of clothing and try to convince him it wasn’t out of disrespect. Merely out of curiosity. 

“Excuse me?” Sweater-man said.

Steve accepted his fate. This was his end. “Yes?” 

Sweater-man smiled. Wide and open, with exposed pearly whites. “Steve, it’s good to see you again.” 

Steve’s mind blue-screened.  _ Again _ ? Steve had met sweater-man? When? Where? Steve may forget people from his childhood, but he prided himself on easily remembering faces as an adult. He’d remember a face like sweater-man’s. Pointy nose, round doe-eyes, fluffy dark hair and a goatee. It was a face Steve would easily remember when put together. It was a very distinguishable face. 

He didn’t remember sweater-man. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said softly, embarrassed, “I don’t recall. Where did we meet?” 

The smile on the stranger remained, growing a little wider. “I’m not surprised. It’s me, Tony. Remember us playing in the snow way back when? I think you were smaller than you are now. Shorter, too.” 

Steve’s jaw nearly made friends with the floor. “No way.” It had clicked. The odds were supposed to be low! How was it possible he’d run into Tony after just having thought about him days earlier? “Oh, my god, how have you been?” 

“I’ve been great,” Tony spread his arms, overjoyed at having been remembered. “Overworked to the bone, let me tell you. This is my busiest time of the year so finding time to relax is a miracle. Literally.” 

Steve took a better look at the man. Shorter than himself but carrying some muscle. Visible through the fabric of the sweater and pants. Slightly pale, as if he rarely saw the light of day but pink on his cheeks and nose. Looking at his face a second time… it was a handsome face. Tony was a very handsome man. 

His holiday friend had grown up to be a very fine man. 

His face went read again, but this time it was not from embarrassment. “What do you do?” Steve moved out of the line, not wanting to create traffic as he caught up with an old friend. 

“I’m in the posting business. Distributing, mailing, take your pick.” There was a gleam in Tony’s eyes. As if he was revealing a secret. “There’s a lot of gift prepping I’m doing right now. My work is going for twenty-four hours.” 

“With the holidays coming up, it’s no wonder you’re so busy.” 

“I’m never busy enough for a cup of coffee, though, and to enjoy a little stroll in the park. Care to join me?” The smile of before, the same smile Tony had often given him when they had been kids, made Steve’s heart skip a beat. 

It was cold and the wind was hell. Only the brave or insane would take a stroll in the park in this weather. Steve eagerly said yes. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be changing up some stuff for the second half. Stay tune for it!


End file.
